


More Like Messi

by WaitingForLove7



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Football | Soccer, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Sorry Not Sorry, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-11-16 06:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11248692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaitingForLove7/pseuds/WaitingForLove7
Summary: In which Cristiano punches Neymar, is approached by Messi, forced to see a therapist, and finds love along the way.•••"Why can't you be more like Messi?""Excuse me? I don't think I heard you clearly.""Why can't you be more like Lionel Messi?""That's what I thought." And with that, Cristiano changed.For the better?I don't know.[Cristiano Ronaldo/Lionel Messi]





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This book is also on Wattpad under the same name! :)  
> Thank you for reading!!!

"Cristiano Ronaldo will be sitting out his next four games due to his recent misbehavior. Is this the downfall of the Portuguese star?"

"Only a few players have lost control like that this season. And for one to be Cristiano Ronaldo? Shocking to say the least."

"We will be bringing you more details after the next interview with Ronaldo and we hope to have solid answers from the star."

•  
•  
•

"Cristiano Ronaldo dos Santos Aveiro! What in hell were you thinking?!" Jorge seethed as he slammed Ronaldo's front door.

"I-I was-"

"Oh, you- you were what, Ronaldo?! Do you know how hard it is for me to keep your job for you?! Do you?!"

"I'm not asking you to! I know what I did, I know!" Cristiano squeezed his eyes shut and pulled at his hair. "I know."

"For some reason," Jorge began, "I don't believe you."

•  
•  
•

"Mãe, please, I will figure it out, I will. I will."

"Cris, I just don't want you to be alone, sweetheart. I want you to be happy."

•  
•  
•

"Ronaldo, take this address, be there at four. At five, you should be better... You will be better. Understand?" Jorge had it figured out, he knew what had to be done.

"Yes, but what will-"

"Just do it."

"A-alright."

•  
•  
•

"Ronaldo, did you work it out with the therapist?" Jorge was frustrated with the player's anger issues that had come up lately and worked to get him the best therapist there was.

"Yeah, it's all good." Ronaldo sauntered past his manager and toward his kitchen. Jorge had always managed to find a way into Ronaldo's house, even if the forward locked every door and window.

"Then why did she inform me that you 'ran away from your problems' this morning?" Jorge stopped and paused. "Cris, we can't let this get too bad or we won't be able to stop it later."

"I know and I'm trying! Everyone is just getting on my nerves! I just want to be left alone!" With the door slammed in his face, Jorge grunted, displeased. Yes, Cristiano is taking a turn for the worse.

•  
•  
•

"Okay, so let's just start over." The young therapist sighed and threw a crumpled up piece of paper into the bin next to her.

The footballer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"We've started over a million times already."

"Now, Cristiano, let's be more positive!" Miyu smiled and began another list.

"What do you think would be best for you?"

"I don't know!" Ronaldo suddenly shot up from the couch and began to stomp towards the door. "This was a stupid idea." And with that, he slammed the door shut behind him.

The Japanese sighed and frowned a little.

"Why can't you be more like Messi?"

"Excuse me? I don't think I heard you clearly."

"Why can't you be more like Lionel Messi?"

"That's what I thought." And with that, Cristiano changed.

For the better?

I don't know.


	2. Chapter Two

"Hey, Ronaldo! Good luck out there! You'll need it!" In the lineup, Neymar and Suarez took turns making fun of the forward.

Cristiano was used to hate finding its way to him, so he was comfortable ignoring their comments.

Farther back in the Barcelona lineup, Messi looked on, ashamed that his caring and family-like team was doing this to Real Madrid, mainly to Ronaldo.

Leo liked to think of them as friends although he knew of Ronaldo's competitiveness. A few years back he had gotten the Portuguese's cell number by asking through friends. After obtaining the information, it was only stuffed into his phone's contacts under the name "Crissy". He didn't want his friends to see the name "Cristiano Ronaldo" in his phone. He would never hear the end of it. Leo would be able to play the name Crissy off as a childhood friend from Argentina.

"You ok?" Messi listened in on Marcelo whispering to Ronaldo.

"Fine," he whispered, almost undetectable.

Marcelo let a frown cover his face before turning back into the cheerful player he was moments before.

Had that not happened, Messi would have believed the forward; however, now he wonders what happened. A family problem? His mom? Or just Neymar and Suarez? He bets on the latter.

"Oh, have enough gel up there Ronnie? Wouldn't want to-"

"Neymar, please focus," Messi gently said to the younger player in front of him.

"Why? We always win anyways." Laughing with Suarez, Neymar was oblivious to Cristiano flinching and clinching his fists.

Messi sighed and slumped in defeat. Hopefully, the game will be uneventful.

•  
•  
•

"Suarez! What the hell was that?!" Messi was fuming at the comment he overheard from his teammate to his rival.

"Just joking around. Gosh Messi, since when are you so uptight?"

"Since when did our team values change? I thought we would always be the nice team?"

"Messi! Get a move on!" Messi growled when he heard his coach yell at him. He needed to fix what was happening before it got out of hand. He could see Cristiano was on the edge of having his facade break down.

"Leo!" Neymar called out to the Argentine who quickly stopped the incoming ball with his chest. Dribbling down the field, he passed back to Neymar. Once he had the ball, Cristiano came from behind and stole it before he could notice. How did I not see him there?, Leo questioned himself.

Before he knew what happened, Neymar tried to slide tackle the ball away from Cristiano. He came crashing down on the Brazilian who responded with cusses and insults toward the forward. As Leo ran up to the scene, Neymar had jumped up and continued his rant.

"Neymar, st-" before Leo could finish, Cristiano raised his fist and slammed it into the smaller player. He crumpled to the ground as the stadium exploded. Unfortunately for Real, they were playing in Barcelona.

His sight was blurry as Marcelo prevented Ronaldo from attacking further as he was given a red card and banned from his next match.

Messi burned with anger as he saw his rival being pushed off the field and into the tunnel. Fortunately, Neymar was taken off as well for medical help.

Barcelona won 2-0.

•  
•  
•

"Messi, now Neymar, oh, and Cristiano has taken it! Neymar with a returning slide tackle and what's- Oh my! Ronaldo has just thrown a punch at Neymar! Marcelo is restraining the star. What could have happen-" the TV shut off with a click.

Growling lowly to himself, Cristiano pushed his dog away with his foot.

"I don't need this, I don't need this!" Screaming Cristiano flipped the coffee table in front of him over and onto the floor. Glass shattered and skidded across the wood floors. Sitting back down, he held his face in his hands and his dog whimpered and jumped up onto the couch.

Through his heavy breathing and trying to prevent himself from crying, he faintly heard his phone ringing in the kitchen.

Stomping through the room and to the counter, he scolded himself for breaking the glass; he was walking around barefoot.

Seeing the unknown number on his phone, he let it ring until it ended. No voicemail was left. Good. Then it's not important.

Turning, he growled when his phone rang again. The same number.

"What?! You know what?! No! I know this is you, Jorge! I don't need a therapist! I wouldn't have punched the midget had he not been taunting me! Oh, but yes, I should have controlled myself. But you know what?! I did! I did for almost the whole match! And I tried! I tried so f***ing hard! But I can't anymore! I've had enough! Have you had hundreds of people hate you and voice it loudly and clearly?! Have you?! No! You haven't! But whatever, you know best, don't you?! So, what have you got to say to me now?" Cristiano became eerily calm at the end and could feel tears from his anger running down his face.

"Hey, it's Messi."


	3. Chapter Three

"Hey, it's Messi."

Cristiano did not hesitate to hang up. He was shaking as tears continued falling down his face.

Feeling a headache coming on, he couldn't comprehend what happened on the phone.

Breathing harder, Cristiano stumbled back and into the wall. Sliding down he choked up when his phone rang again.

•  
•  
•

Frustrated, or rather concerned, that his calls were now ignored, Messi decided to pay the forward a personal visit. Luckily, when he was doing his research on Ronaldo several years ago, he also took note of his address and he hasn't moved since.

Driving from Barcelona to Madrid was simple, but getting through his gates was even easier. Once the guards saw that it was Lionel Messi in the car, they did not hesitate to open the gate. Cristiano had always talked about Messi as a friend, so why not, the guards thought.

Knocking at the door, Messi waited for a response. Hearing only a dog bark once he assumed he wouldn't get an answer. Sighing, he pushed on the door as it was his last option.

Open.

Leo slowly opened the door and stepped in. His heartbeat accelerated when a piece of glass was on the floor in front of him. Closing the door, he saw a table on the floor in the main room.

Walking forward toward the kitchen, he jumped when he heard a bark behind him. Spinning around, a small brown dog was staring up at him.

The dog trotted off into the next room.

Leo, with no other options, followed the quiet sounds its paws made.

The kitchen was spotless with only a phone on the counter. Clicking the button, Leo saw all eight missed calls of his.

That had been two days ago. But where is the Portuguese?

Turning back to the front of the house, he climbed the stairs where he assumed the bedrooms would be.

After opening several doors he was only met with empty guest bedrooms. Once he reached the one he assumed was where Ronaldo slept, everything looked untouched.

Sighing, he returned to the main floor. Hearing metal clang together, he wandered down a dark hallway. One door had light flooding through a crack in it.

Pulling it open, Leo stepped inside.

Cristiano was lying on a bench breathing heavily with his eyes closed. Leo took a step in and observed as Cristiano pulled his fingers through his hair.

Not moving, Leo decided not to interrupt. He felt uncomfortable and distressed to watch the footballer half naked in his home working out.

As he sat up, Leo was thankful that there were no mirrors on the wall. He was hidden in the shadows of the hallway. He could easily turn and leave. But he didn't.

He stood and watched. Leo shuddered when he saw a bandage on his right hand. He swore he saw a tinge of pink showing through, but he convinced himself otherwise.

Could it have been the glass from the table? Or did he do something else?

Deciding he had stayed long enough, Leo turned only to run into the wall behind him.

Hearing the bang Leo made with the wall, Cristiano turned around.

Slowly, Leo turned as well, looking anywhere but at Cristiano.

"Hi," Leo tried to act normal as he pinched his bleeding nose together. "I just- I just wanted to drop by, see how you were." After a long pause, Leo realized that he was having a conversation with himself.

"Well, I see you're fine. I'll be on my way." He turned around and found the door before walking after.

"Wait!" Stopping in the door, he looked back at Ronaldo who had turned back toward the other wall.

"Yes?" Leo replied, a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Forget the phone call. And lock the door on your way out."

Sighing, Leo decided that he had to accomplish what he came here to do.

"No."

Without answering, Cristiano began to put up the weights from the bar.

"Here, I'll help," Leo approached and started to pull off a weight.

"No!" Cristiano yelled and Leo jumped. "I've got it. I've got it." Cristiano quickly jerked the weight from his hands.

"Ok," confused and shaken at his loud voice, Leo stepped back and waited near the door as Cristiano cleaned up.

"So, what's for dinner?" Questioned Leo with a smile as he followed him out of the room.

Not receiving an answer, Leo questioned again.

"So-"

"Shut up already. You're not staying. What do you want?" Cristiano cornered him in the hall.

"Just as I said, I came to check up on you."

"Why? We're not friends."

"I like to think we are." Leo smiled.

"How'd you get my number?"

"Some people I know."

"My address?"

"People."

"Ah. People. Friends?" Inquired the Portuguese.

"Yes, I suppose."

Turning, Cristiano weaved around the stair banister and walked slowly up the stairs.

"Cris. Are you ok?" Called Leo from the bottom of the stairs.

"Fine."

Leo's heart sunk. It was the same tone he had heard when he whispered it to Marcelo. He was far from fine.

"Cristiano! Please," Leo began to walk up the stairs. Seeing Cristiano's fists clench together, he became nervous after seeing what he did to Neymar.

Gulping, Leo took the final step onto the second floor. Grabbing Cristiano's right arm, he couldn't prepare himself for when the forward spun around and pushed him back.

"Don't touch me!" Leo's eyes went wide as he was pushed into the wall and fell to the floor. He noticed Cristiano looked just as scared as himself.

Pushing himself up, Leo gasped when he felt his knee start to burn. Cristiano didn't seem to notice as he grabbed Messi's collar and slammed him into the wall.

Cristiano visibly winced and slightly loosened his right hand, his bandaged hand.

Leo kept his grip on Cristiano's wrists.

"Cris," Leo whispered as he laid his forehead on the wall next to Messi's head.

Cristiano suddenly pulled back and Leo dropped to the floor and tried to ignore his knee.

"Stop, just stop." Cristiano finally spoke up at the Argentine.

"Stop what?"

"Stop doing this! Stop being better than me! Stop wanting to help!" Screaming, Ronaldo backed up, afraid he would harm the other.

Shocked, Messi stared up at the other with wide eyes.

"Just go back to Neymar and Suarez." Cristiano seethed and felt his face turn red.

"Why would I do that? I know they provoked you, I know."

"Ha! You know. Well, thanks for the help."

"I tried! I tried to stop them, but they wouldn't listen!"

"Well, looks like Messi isn't actually perfect for once! Shocking!" Cristiano pushed him harder into the wall. He sounded delusional.

"Stop! What have I done to you?!" Leo cried out as the back of his head hit the wall.

Cristiano didn't respond, rather he grabbed Leo's left arm and ran down the stairs, dragging him behind.

"Hey, Cris," Leo felt his knee twist as he tried to keep up. "Please!" He cried out as he was pushed down the last two stairs and onto the floor.

"Get out," seethed Cristiano as he was too angry to notice Leo's pain. Seeing he was not getting up and Cris stomped down to him. Yelling at him again, Cris grabbed his arm and began to pull him up. He quickly let him drop back to the floor when he cried out in pain.

Leo's eyes widened when Cristiano crouched down beside him. "Are you ok?" He seemed to be a different person.

Cristiano grabbed Leo under his arms and pulled him up to stand. Embarrassed at his childishness, Leo let Cristiano lead him to the couch.

Who is this man? Leo was utterly confused and slightly terrified.

After disappearing for a few seconds, Cristiano returned with bandages and a bag of ice.

Leo pulled up the leg of his sweatpants and observed his purple knee.

"What happened?" Cristiano asked quietly.

Does he not remember what just happened? Leo didn't know how to respond.

"Ah, I must have twisted it." He spoke quietly and unsure of himself. He reached for the bandage but Cristiano picked it up first.

"I'll do it!" In that moment, Cristiano sounded like a little boy trying to impress his father.

Leo went along with it.


	4. Chapter Four

When Messi awoke, Cristiano was nowhere in sight.

Thank-

"You're awake," Cristiano walked into the guest room dressed in tight jeans and a white shirt. Lionel had a mental breakdown and thought he actually screamed out loud.

I just pissed my pants.

I literally just pissed my pants.

"A-ah, yeah, I just woke up." Lionel sat up and pulled the covers up to his chest.

"Is your knee ok?" Cristiano moved to pulled the covers away to look.

"I'm great- it's great! Yes, thank you, but I really need to get dressed, yes, get dressed. Then-" Messi mumbled as Cristiano seemed to get closer.

"What this?" Leo flinched back in pain as Cristiano put his right hand on his cheek. His thumb ran over a bruise that Leo had never felt.

He- he really doesn't remember how he attacked me.

"Oh, you know, I just tripped, yes, tripped." Leo froze as Cris leaned in closer.

"Did... Did I," Cristiano narrowed his eyes at his face and struggled to finish his sentence. Leo was afraid of what he was thinking. What if he lashed out again?

"Cris, do you remember hitting-"

"Please, please leave. Now." Cristiano rushed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Leo sighed in relief. Most of him knew he needed to leave. But part of him wanted to make sure the forward was ok.

Climbing out of the bed, Leo changed into the clothes Cristiano left him the night before and folded up his own.

Descending the stairs, Cristiano was nowhere to be found and the house was silent.

Leaving the house, Messi locked the door from the inside before taking off in his car. He couldn't believe all that had happened. Did Cristiano finally remember that he hurt me?

Leo was terrified at what had happened the night before and was possibly more terrified at leaving Cristiano alone.

The bandage on his hand. I never got to see it. Hopefully, it was just the glass. He would never do anything like that intentionally, right?

•  
•  
•

"Leo! I came over yesterday. Where were you?"

As the Brazilian approached, Messi felt his anger rise at the sight of his bandaged cheek. But not at Cristiano, at Neymar.

"Fine," came the stoic word twice uttered by Cris and now by Leo.

Ter Stegen looked up in the locker room as he heard the harsh answer. He was always the peacemaker and had never heard Messi angry at his teammates.

"Now come on," as Neymar continued his rant about their friendship, Stegen felt as though he should try and get Messi some space.

Walking over, he asked Neymar for his opinion on a new technique he had been working on and Messi hurried over to his locker.

Sighing, Leo sat down and looked in the mirror. Luckily the makeup he had smeared on his face was covering up the only noticeable bruise. Changing into his kit for practice, he remembered his knee and knew people would be suspicious if he was limping around; he was perfectly fine after the match.

Sitting to tie his cleats, Leo thought back to the game. Cristiano had been able to control himself for almost the entire game. Why did he lose it with me immediately? Does he really hate me? But then what was that when he wanted to help me so much? I don't understand what-

"Let's go!" Messi's thoughts were interrupted.

•  
•  
•

"Cristiano Ronaldo dos Santos Aveiro! What in the hell were you thinking?!" Jorge seethed as he slammed Ronaldo's front door.

"I- I was-"

"Oh, you- you were what, Ronaldo?! Do you know how hard it is for me to keep your job for you?! Do you?!"

"I'm not asking you to! I know what I did, I know!" Cristiano squeezed his eyes shut and pulled at his hair. "I know."

I'm sorry Leo, I don't know what happened.

"For some reason," Jorge began, "I don't believe you."

Jorge sighed in frustration.

"Ronaldo, take this address, be there at four. At five, you should be better... You will be better. Understand?" Jorge had it figured out, he knew what had to be done.

"Yes, but what will-"

"Please leave already, Cris!" Jorge shouted at the forward.

"A-alright."

•  
•  
•

Cristiano was greeted with a warm smile.

"Hello, I'm Miyu. Nice to meet you!"

"Hello," Cristiano mumbled and shook the therapist's hand.

"Alright, I know you don't want to be here, but it won't be as bad as you think! First, let's get to know each other!" Miyu led Cristiano to a couch in her office.

•  
•  
•

"Alright," stated the Japanese. "I'm sorry to say this to you, but you've got issues."

Miyu was laying sideways in her chair as Cristiano sat on the floor, leaning on the couch.

"I don't have issues!"

"But, you what?" Miyu looked at Cris like he was insane.

"It's exactly as it sounds! I went away when I was a kid for football!" Cris was frustrated.

"What's your name again?" She looked over.

"Cristiano Ronaldo dos Santos Aveiro!" Cris let out a strangled and frustrated groan.

"Never heard of it," she shook her head. "Let me google this."

Cristiano cried out in annoyance.

"How do you not know who I am?!"

"I'm sorry! I'm very busy with work right now!"

"Oh my gosh. You must live under a rock or something," Cristiano hit his forehead with his hand.

"Geez, rude much." The therapist replied sassily.

Her technique was working. She had once worked with another footballer when he was depressed about a knee injury he received. Said player opened up more when he thought she did not recognize him.

"Whatever, liar." Now for trying to see what makes him angry.

Miyu smirked.

Cris frowned.

"I don't lie!" He cried out and shook his head.

•  
•  
•

"Okay, so let's just start over." The young therapist sighed and threw a crumpled up piece of paper into the bin next to her. She had failed to make him angry so far and decided on something else.

The footballer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"We've started over a million times already. This is pointless!"

"Now, Cristiano, let's be more positive!" Miyu smiled and began another list.

"What do you think would be best for you?"

"I don't know!" Ronaldo suddenly shot up from the couch and began to stomp towards the door. "This was a stupid idea."

The Japanese sighed and frowned a little.

"Why can't you be more like Messi?"

"Excuse me? I don't think I heard you clearly."

"Why can't you be more like Lionel Messi?"

"Fine. Since everyone wants me to change." And Cristiano left.

"Is he angry now?"


	5. Chapter Five

"Hey," spoke Cristiano. He was leaning against Messi's car outside the Barcelona stadium.

"Yes?" Leo spoke carefully. He looked back to make sure none of his teammates were outside as well.

"Ah, I wanted to," he started. "Apologize. I guess." Cris looked down and started to question his actions.

"Cris, you know I forgive you." Leo walked closer to the forward who sighed in frustration. "It wasn't your fault when you hit Neymar. Also, I was out of line to just show up at your house!"

Cris nodded but Leo wasn't sure what it really meant.

"Alright, I should go," Cristiano turned to approach his car. "I'm sorry to bother you."

"Cris wait!" Leo grabbed his arm and turned him around. Cris gasped when Leo reached up and kissed him.

"Cris, wait with me, ok?"

"Ok."

"Just wait," Cris's view of Leo got blurry.

"Wait!"

Cris sat up and gasped for air.

A-a dream?!

He threw the covers and slid out of the sweat-soaked bed. Then who-

"Wait dammit!" Jorge?

Opening his door, Cristiano listened out.

"Come on! I can't wait any longer!" Marcelo.

Cris sighed and started down the hall.

"Just leave him alone for now. I haven't even talked to him about it yet." About what?

"He doesn't need a therapist! It was Neymar!" Cris smiled and was happy that Marcelo was defending him.

"Oh yeah? Is that why you had to drag him off the field? Is that why he lashed out and wouldn't stop hitting him?" I only hit him once. Right?

"Well," Marcelo started but was interrupted by Jorge.

"What about when he punched the medic? Well, certainly he doesn't need a therapist for that!" Jorge argued sarcastically with Marcelo and Cristiano started shaking.

Did I punch a medic? When? I-I can't remember...

"He didn't mean-" Marcelo got quiet.

"He needs help. I've seen footballers go down like this. You have to stop it early on," explained Jorge.

I didn't mean to hurt anyone... Neymar just wouldn't stop... Wouldn't...

Cristiano snapped back into reality when he tasted salty tears in his mouth.

Gasping in a breath of air, Cristiano backed back into his room.

He grabbed his TV remote and pulled up his recorded version of the match.

Fast-forwarding to the fight showed him punching Neymar several times and trying to push Marcelo away.

Wh-What did I do?

The next shot showed him being led down the tunnel and past several medics. The shot switched to the field. Messi was shown backing away from the ref arguing with both teams.

At least they didn't show me hitting the medic. But why don't I remember?

"Cristiano?" Cris heard Marcelo call out from the hall.

Gasping, Cris turned off the TV and rushed into the bathroom. Locking the door, he turned to his mirror and cringed at his appearance.

Would Messi react that way? Would he ki-

Wait. I shouldn't be thinking this! Stupid!

Grabbing a washcloth, Cris dragged it down his face to dry up his tears and looked back up.

Ew.

His phone rang.

Messi?

Answering the phone, he waited a second.

"Leo?" He hoped.

"Yeah."

"Hey." Cris smiled.

"Hey." Leo frowned. "So, I think it's best if we only talk at matches from now on."

Cristiano's heart sunk.

"What? Why?" Messi swallowed nervously. He could hear pure disappointment in Cristiano's voice. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm trying I promise! I-I'm seeing this therapist, please don't-"

Messi ended the call.

"Leo?"

"Mess-"

"Ronaldo? Where are you?" Marcelo called out.

"Ah! I'll be right there!"

Cris grabbed the counter edges and laughed slightly while crying.

More like Messi. How can I do that?

•  
•  
•

At his next training, Cristiano was no longer joking around with Marcelo or ruffling James' hair as he ran by. No, Cris was serious and focused purely on winning.

When approached by friends, he would talk to them, just in a more reserved manner. More in a Messi-like way.

In the locker room, he was quiet and anti-social.

More like Messi... I'm doing it right, right? Messi is always quiet, so he's like that around his team too, I'm guessing.

And if I'm acting more sophisticated maybe Messi will-

"Cris!" His thoughts were interrupted by his coach. "Let's talk."

No. I can't. Am I getting kicked off the team?

"Ok, one second." Keep calm. Messi wouldn't be having a mental breakdown right now.

Cristiano sighed and finished dressing. Leaving the room, Marcelo patted his back.

"Good luck."

Eh?!

"Cristiano, we'll talk in my office."

•  
•  
•

"Cris, we can't have our main player giving our club a bad name," Mourinho explained roughly.

"I'm not trying t-"

"Cris, we're suspending you for the next four matches. People have been complaining and we can't ignore them."

"Complaining?" Cris became quiet.

"Yes, people are afraid you're going to lash out again. They are requiring that you have a break before you play again. I'm sorry, but we can't disrespect their wishes."

"Fine, whatever," Cristiano stood and pushed his chair back. "If anyone won't take my side, then fine. I'm happier alone."

•  
•  
•

Cristiano gasped for air as he pushed his head out from the water. He folded his arms on the edge of the pool and laid his head down.

First things first. Messi is always calm no matter what happens. He never lashes out when someone is rude or mean to him.

After talking to Miyu about what he could do, she informed him that for his personality, he might just need more alone time to relax.

"Don't let yourself think about anything stressful. Don't think about the person you want to be. Think about the person you are. Only small things need to be changed to create a new and better person."

Swimming regularly was a lifestyle change that was helping Cristiano clear his mind. Being underwater and hearing the hum of nature relaxed him.

Also, Cris tried meditating.

"Cristiano! No, like this!" Miyu had not been happy with the results, particularly because she was a perfectionist.

"Oh my gosh, does it really matter? I think I am supposed to try and-"

"Shush! Quiet!"

"But you were just-"

"Cris please, let me relax already."

"Ugh! I'm the one who is supposed to relax! I'm just getting more stressed out!"

"Silence. Please, Cris. Could you think of others for once?" Cristiano's jaw dropped in shock and Miyu couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Ok, ok. Sorry, just, ah never mind."

Then, when Miyu realized she was too OCD about meditating, she suggested something new altogether.

"Ok, let's do this," Miyu smirked as the worker turned on the machine.

A baseball shot out and hit the back of the net.

"Woah, that's way too fast!" Cristiano was quick to complain as he just wanted to get past his four games and get to the Barcelona match to talk to Messi.

"Just do it!" Miyu yelled after she sent a ball flying back in the direction it came from.

"Fine," Cristiano grumbled before standing at the base. "Ah!" Cristiano swung around when he missed the ball. "Stupid-"

"Hey! No negativity!"

"Sh-"

"What did I just say?!"

"Sorry..."

"Um hum. That's what I thought."

That was not a success as well. All I got was a black eye when Miyu tried to "bunt" the ball. Whatever that is.

Cristiano pushed away from the edge of the pool and let himself sink in the water.

Miyu had recommended this workout center in Switzerland to Ronaldo for him to come relax in. It was not often used and when it was, it was by professional athletes.

I've only seen one person here this whole week, Novak Djokovic. I asked him if we could play tennis sometime because Miyu said playing other sports would get my mind off of football. He said yes and that he would be coming back after the French Open.

Cristiano broke through the water and shook his head around. He pulled himself out of the pool and dried himself off. After changing into shorts, he left his bag in the hall before entering the main room with the equipment. As usual, no one was in sight.

Sighing, he approached a bench press and put some weights on it. Laying down, he stared up at the ceiling before gripping the bar with his hands. He pulled it off and started pushing it up and down.

"You know, you should always have a partner in case the weights fall on you."

Cristiano gasped in shock and almost dropped the bar on his chest. The person behind him grabbed the bar and put it back in its place.

Cristiano sat up and turned around slowly.

"Nadal?"

What's with all the tennis players?

"Hey, Cris. I heard about your suspension," Nadal sat down next to Cris on the bench.

"I thought the French Open was starting soon?"

"Yeah, I have a few days. My coach thought relaxing a bit would help."

"Oh," Cristiano nodded and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Well, I'm gonna get in the pool, I'll see you later."

"Ok, see you."

Cris put his head in his hands after Nadal left the room.

Why am I so tense around everyone? It's not like I'm going to attack them... Right?

Yes! I can control myself! Stop second guessing yourself! Stupid!

Cristiano groaned before putting up the weights he had taken down.

This was a stupid idea. I can't be like Messi. I just, I don't know!

Cristiano sighed before finding something else to do. He finally found a football pitch behind the center. Grabbing a ball, he threw it in the air before kicking it into the goal at the far end of the field. Running to retrieve it, he felt something fall on his chest. Looking up, it began to rain.

A depressing day for a depressing person.

He sighed, frustrated. He should have put a shirt on and needed to go back in. Although, his need to kick the ball won the internal argument.

Grabbing the ball, he began to juggle it and kick it down the field and into the other goal.

Socks, shoes, and shorts now fully soaked, Cris ran down the field and dribbled the ball back across.

Inside the center, Rafael Nadal looked through the glass doors.

"What is he doing?" The tennis player asked himself. He sighed before leaving to his car. He didn't think interrupting Cristiano would help, and decided to leave him alone.

Running up to lob the ball into the right corner, Cristiano stretched out only to slide across the grass and slam his head into the grass.

Groaning, Cristiano turned onto his back and closed his eyes.

More like Messi... Messi wouldn't give up, he keeps fighting and training no matter what. That I can do.


	6. Chapter Six

"Ok, let's go!" Messi groaned as he jumped off the Barcelona bus. The team had been flown to Switzerland and bussed to this new center where they would work out and train for a week. To say the least, most of the team was not happy.

Meanwhile, as the rain continued to plummet down, Cristiano had finished putting on his boots and was back out on the football pitch.

"So, because of the weather, we will start with a tour of the facility and you will be shown to your rooms. Afterward, you will go to the board in the front of the main room, and there I will post everyone's personalized workouts for this week."

The team groaned in unison as they shuffled down the entrance hall. A worker led them to the second floor where they all had separate rooms due to minimal visitors this time of year.

After putting their bags down and changing into their training gear, the worker led them around the separate rooms on the first floor.

"Finally, because we can't go outside right now, I'll show you the pitch and other fields and courts from the second-floor viewing window."

The guide led them back up the stairs and when they arrived everyone lined up across the long window.

"Who's that?" Messi was the first to realize that someone was on the pitch. He could not recognize the figure due to the harsh rain blurring the figure. He was impressive as well, with his juggling skills.

"Oh, that's our other guest. He's been here for a few days. He is staying on the other side of the building upstairs so you shouldn't run into him often."

The guide left the team to themselves; however, they were too busy watching the mystery person on the pitch.

Cristiano kicked the ball into the air and sent it flying to his the crossbar. He stopped for a second and put his hands on his knees. He was exhausted from his work and was considering going back to his room.

He started to run towards the ball when he started to get dizzy. Once he got to the goal, he leaned against the post and slid down it until his was sitting on the ground.

He groaned and put his head in his hands.

I skipped breakfast and lunch, probably not the best idea I've had.

After his vision straightened out he stood up slowly and kicked the ball back out onto the field.

Just a few more minutes.

Cristiano rolled the ball over his foot and began to juggle it again. After he started to feel weak again he picked up the ball and started to walk to the building.

Inside, the Barça team had wide eyes at the window and only one spoke up.

"Who the hell is that?" Neymar asked.

•  
•  
•

Cristiano entered the small restaurant on the side of the center and ordered a steak.

He still hadn't changed from his soaked shorts and boots and had to intention to yet.

His theory was to continue practicing and eventually start memorizing and perfecting all of the Barcelona players' moves.

Once his food came he finished it off quickly and prepared to leave. That was when the double doors swing open and he flinched when he saw Barcelona players. He ducked down under his small corner table and watched as the whole team filed in.

What are they doing here?!

Cristiano began to crawl table to table and made sure to stay out of sight of the players.

"Hey, that guy was here!" Cris looked back to see Neymar standing at his table.

"Really?" Suarez made his way over.

Cristiano growled and made his way to the door and swung it open and ran out.

"Who was that?" Messi?

I can't do this.

Cristiano returned to his room and took a shower. Afterward, he dressed ins sweatpants and a sweatshirt hoping to hide his figure and his face if spotted.

He couldn't leave immediately as Miyu had dropped him off and he no longer had a car with him.

I can't believe she trapped me here. But, I still need to make the most of my stay here. I think it's supposed to rain for two more days, so I'll have the pitch to myself. Perfect.

•  
•  
•

The next day, the team was separated into their separate workouts in the main room and Cris had managed to avoid them.

He had walked through the halls quietly and found a different path to get to the pitch. The sky was still covered by clouds and the rain hadn't lightened up any.

Cristiano had gone with a similar outfit to the day before with no shirt. He had started to like the feeling of the freezing rain hitting him as he ran.

Ok, I'll focus on Neymar first.

Cristiano had stayed up late watching videos of Neymar doing several different tricks and believed that if he knew how to do the moves, he would be able to play better against Barça.

Cristiano started with the rainbow which was simple for him to do; however, he continued to do it over and over again to memorize where he moved his body. If he knew what he looked like before he did the move, he would know right when Neymar would start the move.

Inside, ter Stegen decided to take his water break. He ventured over toward the long window and reached for his water. Upon drinking it, he looked out the window.

"Neymar, you have to see this!" Stegen called out to the forward and attracted more team members to look as well.

"Hey, it's that guy again," Suarez leaned closer to the window expecting a better view.

Cristiano kicked the ball forward and sent it flying into the top left corner of the goal.

That looks like... No... 

Messi convinced himself that he was seeing things, but the style looked distinctly like Cristiano's.

Cristiano turned when he got the ball and stood behind it. He then started to try the elaborate crossovers Neymar would do to trick his opponents.

"Why is he copying me?!" Neymar pushed his face up against the window. "I'm going out there!"

"Ney!" Messi pulled on the forward's arm and prevented him from running out the door. "It's pouring out there. You'll get sick."

"Fine."

By then everyone was watching Cristiano and his tricks. He stopped the crossovers and kicked the ball ahead of him. He started running and stretched out to do a hard kick into the goal.

His foot slipped in a puddle and Cristiano collided with the ground. He let out a shout of pain and rolled over onto his side, holding his hip.

Yes, thank you for sending me here, Miyu!

"He's not getting up, should we go out there?" Ter Stegen was always concerned about his teammates and it didn't surprise the others when he voiced his concern about someone he didn't know.

Cristiano rolled onto his stomach and put his head on his arms.

Ugh, maybe I should be out here in the rain.

He got up and started doing lunges to stretch out his legs and realized the pain wasn't going away.

"What are you doing?!" Messi along with everyone else jumped when they heard their coach shout at them. "Get to work!"

Everyone returned to their workouts as Cristiano grabbed the ball and made his way inside.

•  
•  
•

At dinner, the Barça team kept talking about the mystery player. When the waiter came out for their orders, they asked and listened closely.

"Oh, the other guy? That's Cristiano Ronaldo."


	7. Chapter Seven

"Cristiano Ronaldo?!" Neymar's jaw dropped and Messi took a deep breath.

"Mark!" A waitress shouted at the waiter and he gasped.

"Oh, right. I wasn't supposed to say that!" He laughed nervously before leaving to the kitchen.

"Cristiano Ronaldo?" Neymar continued to whisper the Portuguese's name before groaning loudly. "Why is that loser here?! I thought coach said we would be alone?!"

"Ney, please calm down," Messi spoke quietly and didn't seem to want an argument.

"Calm down? Calm down? Don't you remember what he did to me?!" Neymar stood up and caused his chair to fall to the floor. "I'm leaving."

The Brazilian left the room and everyone quietened down.

Later that night, Cristiano was sitting on the edge of the pool. He had been playing on his phone until it died and decided that a swim might relax his hurt hip.

Lowering himself into the water, Cristiano pushed away from the wall and swam underwater to the other side of the pool.

"Well, look who it is," Cristiano grew tense at the voice. He looked back at the door to see Neymar and Suarez staring him down.

This is not going to end well.

Cristiano pulled himself up onto the ledge of the pool and sat with his legs in the water.

"Not going to say hi?" Neymar was set on annoying and possibly hurting the forward.

"Hey."

"Be chill" as Miyu says.

Neymar slowly made his way to the other side of the pool where Cris was sitting. As he did so, Cristiano stood and prepared himself. His main concern was hiding his pain and then protecting himself from what was bound to happen.

Neymar suddenly lunged at Cristiano and they went splashing into the pool. Cristiano tried to push the Brazilian away; however, Suarez appeared quickly to help his friend.

While holding the Portuguese underwater, Messi walked in.

"Neymar! Suarez! Stop!" Messi ran up to the pool and jumped in. He pulled the two away from the coughing and choking forward and yelled at them to leave.

Once they were gone, Messi grabbed Cristiano and pulled him to the stairs.

"I thought," Cristiano struggled to talk as Messi made him sit on the stairs. "I thought you didn't care." Messi struggled to hear him as his voice was now weak and very quiet.

"Of course I care. I can't let my teammates go around and attack people, you know." Leo had his hands on Cristiano's shoulders as he leaned down, still catching his breath.

Cristiano had whimpered at Leo's words but Leo thought it was just from his lack of oxygen.

Cris gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He pushed Leo backward into the pool and stood up.

"We should only talk at matches."

Leo visibly flinched but Cristiano had already left the room.

"I didn't mean it," Leo whispered and sighed.

•  
•  
•

The next day, Cristiano was in his sweatpants and sweatshirt for breakfast. His head was covered by his hood as he ate silently in the corner. He was not alone, the Barça team was at the main table on the other side of the room.

Leo couldn't help but steal glances at the lonely forward, but he never allowed anyone to catch him in the act.

Cristiano was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. He had decided that hiding would do no good, and he should just stay in his room until Miyu came back. Unfortunately, he made the mistake of texting her and asking to leave.

"No! ABSOLUTELY NOT! But get me Messi's autograph would ya?" Her text was annoying to Cristiano but made him feel less lonely than normal.

Cristiano finished his breakfast and stared out the window he was next to. He would not be able to use the field as it was no longer raining and Barça would be practicing out there.

"Cristiano!" Cris ignored the call from the other side of the room. It was not from the Barça team, no. It was from a much scarier source.

"Cristiano Ronaldo dos Santos Aveiro!" Cris groaned when he felt a body slam against his back and push him into the table.

Messi smiled.

"Where's my Messi autograph?" Miyu whispered in his ear and he groaned loudly.

"Ask him yourself!" Cristiano pushed the Japanese away from him and she sat down across from him.

"Oh, look at that delicious body," Miyu smirked and stared down a blushing Messi. "Oh, yes. I see why you're having problems now. You just can't get what you want," Miyu shook her head.

"What?! No!" Cristiano shouted causing everyone to look at him. His face was red and he dramatically put his hand on his face and sighed. "What are you doing here?"

"Me?"

"Who else?!"

"Oh, just a bit of traveling, you know," Miyu looked back at Messi's curious gaze and winked.

"Would you stop it!"

"Nah."

"Ugh."

"I can set you two up."

Really?

"No thanks."

"Ok, don't complain when I marry him. He's mine now," Miyu smirked and Cris growled.

"Ok, fine! Help me," Cris poked at the leftover pancakes with his fork and sighed. He wouldn't let Miyu see his face this red.

"Yes, I know just what to do!" Miyu smirked once again and Cristiano frowned.

"What are you going to do?" He asked warily.

"Well, I have some connections," Miyu ended her sentence with a chuckle and turned to look out the window.

"Oh boy."

You're just my therapist. I hope you remember that.

•  
•  
•

"So, what are you expecting me to do with this information?" The forward was blushing profusely while Miyu was lounging on his bed.

"Come on Messi, I know you like him too."

Messi shook his head.

"That would be ridiculous. Besides, I barely know you."

"I got you through your depression! Don't be mean to me," Miyu pouted and sat up. "Just give it a shot, ok?"

•  
•  
•

The next morning, the Barça team sat down at their regular table; however, everyone watched silently as Messi walked over and sat next to an unsuspecting Cris.

Cristiano stared at the forward for a second before grabbing his plate and drink and switching to the next table.

Leo slammed his hands on the table before following his actions.

Cris moved again.

Leo growled and grabbed his water. Cristiano and everyone in the room froze when Leo poured his water over Cristiano's head.

"What's your problem?!" Cristiano jumped up and yelled at the Argentinean.

"What's your problem?!" Messi shouted back as Cristiano clinched his fists.

"My problem?" Cristiano stalked up to the smaller player. "My problem?"

Leo gulped as Cris grabbed his collar and pushed him to the wall.

"You're my problem." Cristiano pushed Leo to the floor before stomping out of the room.

"Leo! Are you ok?" Neymar rushed over to the footballer on the floor.

"I'm fine."

•  
•  
•

"Cristiano, please, open the door," Leo had been given the forwards room number by Miyu. The sneaky Japanese had been stalking the Argentine to make sure he was following along with the plan.

"Cristiano, don't make me use the key Miyu gave me."

Miyu would never-

Cristiano's eyes widened as he pulled the covers farther over his head.

She betrayed me! That-

"Cristiano?" Messi had entered the main sitting room and called out to the forward.

Goawaygoawaygoaway!

"I'm sick!" Messi rolled his eyes at the lame excuse.

"Please, I've seen you play a match while you had the flu," Leo entered the bedroom and switched on the light. "You know I can see you, right?"

Cristiano held onto the sheets tighter when the bed dipped beside him.

"You should leave," Cristiano whispered.

"I know. But I have other plans."


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I’ve been very busy at school and haven't had time to even imagine what could happen next. Honestly, this wouldn’t be up if it wasn’t for someone who commented on another website. Thank you for reading and I hope to update more!

_••• Three Months Later •••_

  
"Messi," the Argentine's trainer sighed in defeat. "I can't help your knee if you don't want to be helped."   
  
Leo had been sulking around the gym while the trainer worked hard to make him a schedule to strengthen his knee back up.   
  
"I'll do it, I promise."   
  
The trainer glared at the Argentine, who knew he was a bad liar.   
  
"I don't believe you."   
  
"Yes, I’m aware.”   
  
Grabbing a paper from his printer, he folded it and handed it to the forward.

"At least do the workout three times a week. It would be best if you followed it every day."  
  
"I should be back for the next game, right?"   
  
"Yes, if you do the workout. If not, you should be back by the Classico."   
  
"Alright, thanks," Leo waved to his trainer before finding his way out of the Barcelona stadium.   
  
"Leo!" He turned and watched as Neymar started running toward him. "Can we talk for a second?"   
  
Leo knew this was inevitable, he had been ignoring the Brazilian along with Suarez since they had left the training center. He couldn't get over the way they had treated Cristiano just because he was their rival and arguably better than the two.   
  
"I'm tired, Ney. I need to get home and sleep," Leo's statement wasn't entirely a lie, he had been up the last few nights trying to find someone on the Madrid team to tell him what Cristiano's new number was.   
  
"Leo, please, why are you ignoring me?"   
  
"Neymar, don't tell me you don't know!"   
  
"Leo, I really don't," Neymar frowned and reached to grab Leo's shoulder. Leo quickly stepped back and pushed the forward away.   
  
"Neymar, just leave me alone," Leo got in his car and sped out of the lot, leaving Neymar to stand and stare after him.   
  
Leo growled when his phone started ringing.   
  
"I said to leave me alone!"   
  
"Um, ok then, I can call back later," Leo's eyes widened and he swerved the car when he realized it was the Portuguese forward.   
  
"Cristiano! Wait!"

There was a pause and Leo feared Cristiano had hung up.  
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Ah, how are you doing?" Leo clenched his phone tighter as if it would keep Cris on the phone.   
  
"I've been the same,” Leo flinched at his short answers.   
  
"I've been hearing some rumors about a transfer, is it true?"   
  
"I'm keeping my options open," Cristiano wasn't too keen on leaving Madrid but he knew he wasn't playing as well as he used to.   
  
"England?"   
  
"United is a possibility, I suppose."   
  
"Oh," Leo had arrived at his home and was now sitting in his car, listening closely to every word Cris spoke. "Cristiano, can we start over?"   
  
“Start over what? Our rivalry?" The forward laughed and Leo faked one.   
  
"Um, start over our relationship..." Leo blushed.   
  
"Are we in one?" Cristiano raised an eyebrow and waited for Leo to respond.   
  
"I mean our friendship! You know, yeah,” Leo cringed at his answer but frowned when the forward didn’t respond immediately.

“What friendship?” Leo choked on his breath and thought for a moment he was going to cry but a tear actually fell down his face when the Portuguese spoke again. “You wouldn’t want to be my friend anyway, Lionel. No one wants to.”

The call ended but the phone was still held up to Leo’s ear.

Leo thought back to when he overheard Cristiano talking to Marcelo in the lineup.

 _"You ok?" Messi had heard Marcelo whisper to Cristiano._   
  
_"Fine," Cristiano had whispered back._   
_  
Marcelo let a frown cover his face before turning back into the cheerful player he was moments before._

Messi wondered if Cristiano even considered Marcelo a friend. He had replied quite harshly after thinking back on it.

 _Maybe Cristiano was planning on going back to Manchester. He always looked happier when he was younger anyway. And who’s to say people were actually nice to him in Madrid?_ Leo frowned at the thought of Cristiano being talked down to while also being the target of the media.

_Maybe Rooney showed Cristiano more respect than the people he was surrounded by now. I’m sure he showed Cristiano more respect. All of the people around Cristiano only care for awards, not for playing football._

Messi sighed and ran his hands over his face, frustrated because he felt like he could do nothing.

 _No one wants to be his friend? What about the millions of women that throw themselves at his feet?_ Messi pondered.

_I suppose they wouldn't be looking for friendship more than they would be looking for money and fame._

Sighing, Messi opened the car door once he pulled into his drive and stepped out into the light of the falling sun.

_I always thought I would have the same feelings and burdens as Cristiano, seeing as how our lives are similar. I can’t believe how wrong I was._

Leo pulled up the number Cristiano called him with and saved it into his phone.

Leo wasn’t sure when he would gain the courage to call, but he knew he would eventually.


End file.
